Spoil of War
by Cacia
Summary: HP/Twilight- Hogwarts is closed for what should be Harry's sixth year, and instead he finds himself in a foreign country, tracking down potential allies for the upcoming war. Who would have thought a mission for the Order could change everything? HP/EC
1. Chapter 1

Spoil of War

Rating: PG-13 for the moment, but rating is subject to change

Author's Note: This is, as I'm sure you all have figured out by now, a Harry Potter/Twilight crossover fic. It's AU for HP after Harry's fifth year, and will be an AU taking place during _New Moon_ in the Twilight series. Bella never came to Forks, so don't expect her to make an appearance, but everyone else is as is. This will be a slash fic with an Edward/Harry pairing. Let me know what you all think, and I'll try to keep it coming as quickly as I can!

***

Prologue

Harry Potter was not normal. Even before he knew what exactly it was that made him different, there was always something that set him apart from others. When he was little, it was because he was an orphan. His cousin, Dudley, was always quick to point out to the kids at school that Harry was only living with the Dursleys because his parents went and got themselves killed. Freaks.

Later it was his magic. Once Harry found out he was a wizard, magic became a sort of answer to all his questions: this was how his parents had lived and died, this was why strange things kept happening around him. It wasn't _his_ fault the glass partition on the Boa Constrictor cage vanished at the zoo on Dudley's birthday and his cousin got trapped inside. It was the magic! But then it turned out that Harry wasn't even a normal wizard. Famous Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. The only person in history to have survived the killing curse, and destined to kill or be killed by the darkest wizard the world had ever known.

For the most part, Harry thought he was used to it. Being different from everyone else became Harry's definition of normal. Of course, just as soon as he came to terms with who he was, things had to get crazy again. Now it turns out Harry can't even be a normal _human_. But we'll get to that later.

One

Harry would never admit it out loud – especially not to Hermione – but he was almost glad not to be going back to Hogwarts for his sixth year of school. After the battle at the Department of Mysteries, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was forced to admit to the public that Lord Voldemort had returned from the dead. Understandably there was much hysteria from the wizarding population, but it came as complete surprise to Harry and his friends that the panic escalated to the point where parents were refusing to send their children away from home. Fudge used the opportunity provided to temporarily close Hogwarts, once believed to be one of the safest places in the world, and instead began petitioning Dumbledore to spend his time developing plans for the upcoming war.

When letters informing students' families of the decision were sent round, Harry thought Hermione was going to have a panic attack. She, Harry and Ron were gathered together in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. It was dark and gloomy, which was fairly typical for the sprawling monstrosity that had once belonged to Harry's late godfather.

"I don't think it's fair!"Hermione stared into her glass of pumpkin juice as if it had the answer to all her problems. "What are we going to do if we can't go back to school this fall? There's so much more we have to learn, and it's not going to help us any against You-Know-Who if we can't even get our spells right."

Harry shrugged. His head hurt. They had dragged him out of his bed that morning and were trying to get him to talk. Ron and Hermione were obviously worried about him, and he supposed that made sense. Sirius had been dead for almost two months, and Harry still blamed himself for his godfather's presence that night at the Department of Mysteries. If only he had remembered the two way mirror Sirius had given him, if he had just stuck with the Occlumency lessons instead of storming out on Snape, if he had been just that much faster... There were too many ifs. He was going to have to stop thinking about it or it would drive him mad. These days, though, he was finding himself more angry than anything else.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Hermione," Harry replied, telling his friend what she wanted to hear. "I'm sure we'll be back at Hogwarts before you know it. They won't keep the school closed for long."

"Besides, we've still got Moony and McGonagall and the rest of the grown-ups. And since it looks like we're going to be stuck here for a while, they'll probably have us working on something." Ron grabbed a handful of biscuits from a plate in the center of the table, then began shoveling them into his mouth. "It's not like they'll just leave us moping about."

Hermione made a face at him. "I suppose you're right. At the very least we could start going through some of the books in the library here while we're waiting. We can keep on top of theory anyway. We may as well even get started, it'll give us something to think about besides Siri–"Hermione cut off mid-sentence and darted an apologetic glance at Harry.

"It's okay," he said. "You're right, it'll help. And if it'll get me any closer to being able to wipe the floor with Lestrange, I'm all for it." Harry shoved back on his chair and got to his feet. Hermione and Ron followed, Ron muttering under his breath about studying on summer hols and the unfairness of it all.

The library at Grimmauld Place was every bit as oppressive as the rest of the house. It had been gone through the summer before, and anything looking even remotely Dark in appearance had been removed and destroyed so the Order could have full access to the room. Tall bookcases in dark wood lined the walls, crammed full of musty leather volumes, more books stacked in messy piles on the scattered wooden tables, some in towering stacks on the floor. There were a few stiff-looking wingback chairs upholstered in stained green velvet that were placed before the empty fireplace, but otherwise seating was limited to hard wooden chairs at the study tables.

Seated in a sprawl in one of the wingbacks, a book hanging limply from his fingers, was Remus Lupin. His head was lolled to the side, breathing deep and even. He was asleep. Remus had been having a particularly difficult time since Sirius's death. The man had been his best friend since childhood, and only recently returned from a stint in Azkaban. Harry hurt badly enough because of the loss of his godfather, and he'd only really known the man for a few years. He couldn't even imagine what Remus must be dealing with.

"Maybe we should come back later," Harry turned back to his friends, motioning for them to be quiet and make their way back out the door so as not to wake the sleeping man. A shuffling noise from behind Harry made him look back. Too late.

"Harry?" The voice was sleep slurred and gravelly.

Harry gave Remus a wan looking smile, then nodded to his friends. "You two go ahead back upstairs. I'll catch up later."

"Alright, mate. Find us when you're done." Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder, and the two left.

Harry went back over to Remus and dropped heavily into the chair next to him. Since Harry had been brought to Grimmauld Place at the beginning of July, he had found himself spending much of his time with his former professor. Remus was quiet and calm, and didn't make him talk when he didn't feel like it. They understood each other, and to Harry it was a welcome respite. "Hey, Moony. Didn't mean to wake you. Hermione wanted to have a look at the books here, maybe start going over some spell theory since it looks like we're not going to be back at school next term."

"S'okay," Remus ran a hand over his face. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." He looked at Harry sharply. "What do you mean you're not going to school this term? What's happened?"

"Dumbledore didn't tell you? Apparently Hogwarts has been closed. They say it's not safe–the letters to parents came round this afternoon. I'm surprised you haven't heard anything."

Remus laughed humorlessly. "I'm afraid they're not telling me much of anything these days. Don't think I can handle it I suppose."

"Tell me about it. Nobody ever tells me anything. Maybe if they did some things would have turned out differently." Harry pulled his wand from out of his trouser pocket and began turning it absentmindedly between his fingers. He found himself falling into the habit often lately, his mind going over spells as he tried to come up with alternate outcomes to the events at the Department.

Remus placed his hand over Harry's, stopping the nervous movement. "I'm beginning to think you're right about that," he said softly. "There are things they should have told you about. Still are, probably. Dumbledore mentioned this morning that there's going to be an Order meeting later tonight. I think it's about time I had a talk with him"

"Is there something going on?" Harry asked, worried.

"I don't rightly know. It should be just the regular weekly planning session, but now that Hogwarts is closing...he may have something in mind." Remus studied Harry's face intently. "I'll see if I can find anything else out later and I'll try to let you know what's going to happen."

Harry smiled. "Thanks."

He nodded. "How're you holding up, Harry? Aside from the school bit."

"I'm okay." Harry paused, unsure of what to say. Yes, he was upset and angry. He wanted revenge and he wanted it to stop hurting so badly whenever he thought of Sirius, but wasn't Remus dealing with enough? On top of losing his friend, he still had to worry about the Order, and the safety of Harry and his friends. Now that Sirius was gone, Remus was the one in charge of maintaining Grimmauld Place and keeping everything in order for the crowds of witches and wizards that came tromping through the house at all hours. He probably never had any time to himself, and Harry didn't really think Remus was particularly comfortable talking to any of the other adults about his problems.

"It's hard, you know? I go over and over that night, trying to see what could have been done differently, but," Harry shook his head, "it's rather pointless. What about you? Sirius was your best mate. I can't wrap my head around what you must be going through."

Remus was quiet for a moment, thinking. He nodded slowly. "Yes, it's difficult. But Sirius... he could be so reckless at times. He had a tendency to run into things without thinking. It's what landed him in Azkaban before, and it was only a matter of time before it caught up with him again." Remus paused, considering his next words carefully. "I think he would have been content in knowing that he died protecting you."

Harry's hands tightened into fists. "I wish he hadn't. I wish he'd just stayed put."

Remus sighed, reached out and rested a hand on Harry's. "It wasn't in his nature to sit still. And it most certainly wasn't your fault he was there."

"It's never my fault is it?" Harry scoffed. "I make a mistake and people die. But it's not my fault because how could I _possibly_ know any better?"

"I know it's hard to hear, and even harder to accept, but it isn't. We're adults, Harry. If we go running into things after you, we're responsible for the consequences." Remus stared at Harry for a few silent minutes, watching the young man glare down at his knees and think. Much as he loved Harry, he felt somewhat sorry for him at times. What must it be like to be under so much pressure all the time? To be completely aware that every move you made was watched, judged. To know that, yes, if you made a mistake, people blamed you regardless of the situation. The poor boy.

"Do you want to go on up to Ron and Hermione?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Harry sighed. "Suppose I should." He looked to Remus, tilted his head to the side slightly, still looking subdued. "You'll tell me if you find anything out?"

"I'll try."

And really, that was more of an answer than Harry usually got. He nodded stiffly and left the library.

He found Ron and Hermione after poking through a few of the rooms on the upper storey of the house. They were perched together atop one of the beds in Ron's room, stretched out comfortably along its length. Hermione was copying down information into a notebook, but looked up when Harry entered the room.

"Everything alright?" she asked, putting down her pen and brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, it's fine." He plopped down beside the two, Ron huffing as the bounce Harry made almost caused him to fall off the side of the bed. Ron smacked his leg and Harry brushed him off. "There's an Order meeting later. Remus said it should be pretty standard, but that Dumbledore might have something up his sleeve."

Ron flipped over onto his back, propping his arms behind his head. "Wonder what it could be. Doubt we'll hear anything about it, whatever it is."

"They'll have to give us something to do, though," Hermione pointed out. "Maybe we can help."

"Maybe," Harry agreed. "Remus said he'd try to let me know what was going on. Even said he'd try to talk to Dumbledore about keeping me more in the loop."

Hermione smiled softly. "That's nice of him. You two have been getting along well lately."

"Yeah. He's good to talk to." Harry shook himself and turned to face Hermione. "What are you working on?"

Ron covered his face and groaned. "Don't get her started mate! Plotting out the whole rest of our lives – what to study and when, what the best books are. We'll never have a moments peace!"

Harry laughed, watching as Hermione got offended and started hitting Ron with one of the pillows scolding him all the while. Ron raised his arms to protect himself, but she had the advantage, and soon the two were in an all out pillow fight.

He grinned and picked up a pillow. It was as good a way as any to spend the rest of the afternoon.

***

When the three were called down to the kitchen for supper, Harry, Ron and Hermione were covered nearly head to toe in feathers and had to lean on one another for support, they were laughing so hard. They took their seats, and upon looking around, Harry was surprised to see that the entire main body of the Order was gathered around the long kitchen table. Dumbledore caught his eye and smiled, eyes twinkling. Merlin but Harry hated when he twinkled.

"I'm sure you're wondering what we're all doing here, Harry," he said, reaching for a loaded dish of potatoes and serving out a large helping before continuing. "There's to be a meeting as soon as everyone's had their fill. Would you and your friends mind terribly sitting in?"

Harry blinked at the man, surprised. They were really going to let them stay? He darted a look to Ron and Hermione on either side of him, noticing their equally shocked expressions. "O-of course, sir."

"Good, good. Now pass the peas, if you please dear boy."

Harry complied, and spent the remainder of the meal anxiously waiting for it to be over so the meeting could start.

Before too long, he got his wish, and soon enough the adults had settled into their seats so that they all faced Dumbledore, who had moved to the front of the room.

"You all know by now, I'm sure, that Hogwarts won't be reopening this fall," he began, clasping his hands before him. "It was a decision made primarily by the Ministry, and after a great deal of consideration I have agreed to."

Muttering broke out through the room. Harry was somewhat surprised that the headmaster had complied with Fudge's orders so easily. Dumbledore never gave in without a fight.

"Hogwarts has always been a safe place, and I have no doubt that it shall continue to be so in the future. However, with parents refusing to send their children to us, we find ourselves at a loss. We can hardly force their hands, and in the end, it was decided by myself and the other administrators that we would use this unfortunate event to out advantage.

"Fudge has been encouraging me to take up the fight, now that he has acknowledged that Voldemort has returned, and we have decided it is best to begin focusing on our own forces for the battles to come.

"Voldemort is going to attempt to recruit anyone and anything he can to help him in his fight. As of now it won't matter to him whether or not the blood of his soldiers is pure, so long as they serve him. Only after victory will he turn on them and destroy them all.

"It is for this reason that we will attempt to get to them first. We will need all the help we can get, and it is imperative that he begin to unite ourselves against this threat to our world." Dumbledore met the eyes of each person in the room in turn, his voice steely, arms held slightly out to his sides.

Harry felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him. This was really happening. Dumbledore was giving orders, and he was going to be a part of it all. No more being treated like a kid, he was going to be training for war. He would be responsible for helping to gather fighters for the upcoming battle. Was he ready for this?

"You all will be broken up into small groups or pairings, after which you will receive your assignments. You will then gather your belonging and report back here for travel instructions. Many will be leaving the country, and correspondence will be limited entirely to progress reports and emergency calls, so say your farewells now." Dumbledore consulted a rolled parchment that had been resting on the table, and began reading off names. Harry listened absently as names were called, noting that Ron would be working with his brother, Bill, and Hermione would be with Hagrid. _I hope they have me with someone decent_, he thought, _it'd be just like Dumbledore to try and pair me with Snape_.

It wasn't until the end of the list that his name was called, "Harry Potter, and Remus Lupin." Harry let out a breath of air, relieved. _I can deal with that._

"Most assuredly you all will face difficulties in the time ahead," Dumbledore began again, "I advise you to remain compassionate and kind; many of the people you meet will not greet you warmly. Remember all you have been taught, rely on one another, and above all, remember what we are fighting for– I am sure you all will do splendidly." As he spoke, McGonagall walked around the room, passing out large rolls of parchment a member of each group.

Harry took the one offered to him, unrolled it, and quickly scanned the writing until he saw who exactly he would be attempting to recruit. _Werewolves_. Of course, that made sense considering that he was going to be working with Remus. There was plenty more information written on the scroll: what looked like sighting reports, local and not so local folklore, and quite a bit more. At least they had something to go on.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together, briskly. "We will now part ways, my friends. Please consult with your groups and your parchments. This assignment is officially underway. Best of luck to you all."

Many of the Order members began to depart. Harry saw Tonks off in a corner with the twins, Kingsley Shaklebot talking with an older witch Harry wasn't familiar with, and Mad-Eye Moody with a tetchy looking younger wizard. He made his way over to Remus, handed over the parchment, and sat beside him on one of the benches pulled up to the kitchen table. "Looks like werewolves for us," he said.

"Not very unexpected," Remus replied, unrolling the parchment and giving it a once over. "Don't really know if we'll make much progress but it's worth a try I suppose." He turned to face Harry. "Why don't you go say your good-byes to Ron and Hermione, and we'll get started on a plan when you're done."

"Would you mind?" Harry did want a chance to talk with his friends before they separated. He didn't know how long it would be before they'd see one another again.

"Of course not. I'll be here when you're done."

"Thanks, Remus." Harry made his way out of the kitchen towards the foyer. Hermione and Ron were huddled together by the stair case talking in furious whispers. They quieted as Harry approached.

"Looks like this is the last time we'll be seeing each other for a while," he said, ruffling his fingers through the messy hair at the back of his neck. It would be strange without Ron and Hermione. They had spent a good portion of their time together for the last five years, and to not know when he'd get to see them again was hard.

"Suppose so," Ron replied. Harry could tell that from the way he was practically vibrating where he stood that Ron was excited. "They've got me working with Bill. We're gonna be checking with his contacts in the North African magical community– curse breakers, yeah? Dumbledore wants us checking with the goblins too; see what they can tell us about their defense systems at Gringotts. Might be useful." He grinned brightly.

"Wow," Harry knew Bill had made a name for himself with his work in the Pyramids in Egypt. Ron would be able to learn a lot from his brother.

"And I'm to be with Hagrid," Hermione spoke up.

"Really?" Harry asked, somewhat confused. "I heard, when they called your name. Seemed a bit strange, I thought." He'd figured Hermione would be with one of the professors, working more on research than field-work.

"Hagrid's going to try the giants again. Grawp is coming along, and since he likes me, Dumbledore thought I'd be useful, I suppose." She looked pleased with the thought of Dumbledore considering her an asset. "What about you, Harry? You're with Lupin?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Werewolves."

"That's rather dangerous, though, isn't it?" Hermione was worried. It was rather sweet, but Harry was a little tired of everyone being scared he was going to break.

"They're hardly going to send me somewhere I could get killed or anything, Hermione. They sort of need me, remember?"

"She didn't mean it like that, mate," Ron interrupted before the two could get in a shouting match. "We know you can take care of yourself. We just want you to be careful. You remember what they're like, werewolves."

He did. Memories of running with Hermione from Remus-the-wolf, full moon shining down on the foggy grounds of Hogwarts; knowing Ron was out there, injured, with Snape lurking about, and Sirius...well. "Yeah, I remember. But it's not like I'm going to go running around on the full moon to get their attention. I'll stay safe."

Hagrid came ambling up behind the trio from the direction of the kitchen, halting their conversation. "Sorry to interrupt yeh, Harry, but it's about time Hermione and me were off. Got a lot o' distance to cover in the next couple o' days, an' we still have to get Grawpy from the forest." He brought his hand down on Ron's shoulder, causing the boy to stumble under the sudden weight. "Bill was lookin' for yeh, Ron. He's still in the kitchen with yer mum an' the rest. Better get goin'."

"Yeah, guess I should." He turned back to Harry. "Reckon this is good-bye for a while."

Harry smiled at his friend, sad. "Seems like. Be careful, yeah? Don't get yourself trapped in a tomb somewhere."

Ron laughed. "Nah, not me! You be careful too. Don't let Lupin eat you." He dodged the punch Harry aimed at his shoulder, instead ducking behind Hermione.

"Behave boys!" she scolded. "And where's my good-bye? Too busy trying to knock each other senseless to pay me any attention I see."

The boys grinned at one another, then both grabbed Hermione up in a hug. "We'll miss you, Hermione," Harry said softly, face pressed into her hair.

"Yeah, things won't be the same without you bossing us around." Ron added.

She laughed, squeezing them back. "You'll be fine. We'll be back together before you know it." She pulled away, smiled sadly one last time, and turned to leave, jogging a bit to match Hagrid's long stride.

"I'll walk you back in there, Ron," Harry said, watching Hermione leave. "Remus is waiting for me inside." Ron nodded back.

Upon entering the kitchen, the boys parted ways, wishing each other luck one more time. Harry found Remus still slouched out on the bench closest to the kitchen hearth, the roll of parchment unravelled before him. Harry sat beside him, letting out a deep sigh. "So," he said. "Werewolves. Shouldn't be too hard finding them; I suppose you have contacts with some of the packs around here."

"I do," Remus confirmed. "But it looks like we're going after a different angle." He handed Harry the scroll, tapping a section near the top. "Voldemort has already managed to gain control over most of Britain's packs. He's got Fenrir Greyback in his pocket."

"Greyback?" Harry asked. The name didn't sound familiar to him. "Why would he make any difference?"

"Greyback is responsible for most of the roaming packs. He's a horrible excuse for a man– likes to attack children." Remus looked down at his hands, studying some of the scarring along the backs. He said quietly, "He was the one that turned me. Most of the other wolves are too scared to go against him, especially with Voldemort backing him."

Harry didn't quite know how to respond. He knew Remus was a werewolf, obviously, but to hear the older man implying that he had been attacked and probably nearly killed, likely as a child himself, was hard to hear. "I'm sorry."

Remus shook himself, banishing the dark thoughts. "No mind," he brushed it off. "Anyhow. Since that side of it is impossible, it looks like we're to be chasing fairy-stories. There's rumors of wolf packs out in America. A bit strange, really."

"Why's that?" Harry asked. American magical traditions weren't really touched upon at Hogwarts, but he had always assumed it was much like Europe's.

"Ever since the witch hunts back in the sixteen hundreds, the American wizarding population has been particularly close-knit. A few children are sent out of country for school, Canada more often than not. But mostly they're taught by family members, focusing instead on Old World practices."

Harry looked confused. "Old World?" He wasn't sure what Remus meant.

"Their magic is structured differently than ours. They accomplish the same sort of things we can, just go about it differently. We're rooted firmly in a societal approach: magical communities like Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, boarding schools and the like. America tends to be less formal. Some is based around nature worship religions and hedge-witchery, focusing on aspects of magic like healing and finding one's place in the world; some is centered in Muggle acknowledged religions like Wicca or Voodoo, which can use spells in ritualistic format to achieve their goals. All are passed through families." Remus was in full on professor mode, but Harry found it all interesting regardless.

"You'd think that if anything they'd be more open and casual about it than we are," Harry commented. He remembered hearing stories from his Uncle Vernon about America. Grunning's Drills often sent its workers overseas for various reasons, and Vernon would always complain to Petunia and Dudley afterwards. America was too loud, too bright, too bloody _rude_. It amused Harry terribly to see his uncle so out of sorts, and he supposed that he was expecting to see many of the traits his uncle detested carry over to the American magical community.

"In a way they are," Remus continued, stretching his legs out before him. "They're not as organized about it all as we are here, but they are more interwoven in Muggle culture. The magic-based religions, like Wicca, are known and recognized by Muggles. They just don't realize that some of the practitioners really can do magic like they claim."

Harry thought back over the conversation, running bits through his mind once more. "You said we were going to be chasing fairy-stories. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, since most of the magical community is scattered about to remain secret, the magical creature community is even more so. It's fairly easy for witches and wizards to hide in plain sight by becoming a part of accepted supposedly magical groups; no one will ever really believe it. It's a little different when you've got goblins or werewolves wandering about. People would notice large groupings. So most creatures remain solitary." He sighed. "That or leave altogether."

"So packs are unusual," Harry murmured, sorting the information, "but apparently there's something that's got people here suspecting otherwise. What is it?"

It struck Harry as strange that the Order would have them following what could be a false lead. _Why waste the resources?_ He wondered. _Are they trying to get us out of the way? Or does the Order think that by sending me on wild goose chase I'll be safer?_

"There are sections of the Ministry that monitor strange happenings globally. Even though the British Ministry doesn't often get involved with the situations that occur, they like to be informed. There were some unexplainable deaths on the American West Coast last year. They seemed to point to animal attacks. That along with large animal sightings lead to the werewolf theory." Remus unrolled more of the scroll. Towards the end was a small map of the United States. He pointed to the top left corner. "Here, in Washington state, is a large section of forest," he tapped a little dot a ways northwest of Seattle. "Outside of this town, Forks, is where most of the sightings have taken place."

He got to his feet stiffly, re-rolling the parchment. "And that's where we'll be heading. The instructions did mention that we'll be traveling there as Muggles, so we'll be flying. Head on up to your room and pack your trunk. I'll apparate us to the airport when you're done. Supposedly there will be tickets waiting for us there."

Harry nodded, then paused. Traveling the Muggle way, particularly across borders meant that they'd need a little more than just luggage.

"How is that going to work, Remus?" he asked. "We're going to need identification. Passports too. Not to mention money."

Remus smiled and held up a satchell Harry hadn't noticed before. "McGonagall brought this round while you were with Ron and Hermione. It's got all the papers we'll need, and they've set up a bank account for us. It's all set."

Oh. Well that made sense. Dumbledore wouldn't send anyone on a mission unless they were fully prepared. "Alright, then. I'll be back down in a bit, I suppose."

Harry trekked slowly through the lower floors of Grimmauld Place, taking in the cobwebs along the ceiling, the dark looking portraits and paintings lining the walls. He wouldn't miss the place, he could admit that much to himself honestly. It was hardly the sort of house one would want to call home, much as he had wished to be able to make a home with Sirius. That would have more that made up for the awfulness of the house. He ran his fingers along the banister as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. _There's no way that'll happen anymore. No godfather means no family other than the Dursleys._

Harry turned into his makeshift room, lifted his trunk from the corner, then dumped it onto the massive four-poster in the center of the room. He gathered fallen clothes, books, and other knick-knacks scattered around the room, placing them haphazardly in to the trunk. His hands stilled when they reached his photo album, taking it out and flipping it open. On one side was a picture of Sirius and Remus, looking near to his age of sixteen. Their arms were thrown around one another's shoulders and were making goofy faces for the camera.

He flipped to the last page in the book, where there was a shot of himself with Hermione and Ron, taken at some point during the last year. The three were lounging on a blanket outside by the lake at Hogwarts. Ron and Harry were playing a game of exploding snap, while Hermione had her nose buried in a book.

_They're my family, too_, he thought suddenly, surprised at himself for having not admitted it before. _Ron and Hermione and Remus. They're my family . And they're still here. Maybe it's about time I realized that. _ Harry placed the album back in the trunk, then shut the lid and snapped the latches closed. He looked around the room one last time, and let out a deep breath. _I won't miss it here. I'm going to go to America and track werewolves with Remus. We'll get them to agree to help us , then we'll come back here. And then I'm going to end this._

Resolution firm in his mind, Harry grabbed his trunk and dragged it downstairs. He had a plane to catch.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! Like I said before, this is the first time I've posted anything I've written and it's amazing to see that people like it. In answer to the comment about this seeming like it could lean towards a Jacob/Harry pairing--I thought about it seriously after I started writing, especially with this chapter, but I wanted to play around with the dynamics of the Edward/Harry relationship more. I have some ideas for the pairing that are a little unusual, and am looking forward to incorporating it here.

And now, without further ado--chapter two!

Chapter 2

Travel by portkey was, for the most part, instantaneous. Travel by airplane, Harry learned, took significantly longer. After more hours than he cared to count, Harry stumbled into the Port Angeles airport with a much more put together temporary guardian. When asked how he could look so comfortable after such a long flight, Remus simply shrugged and explained how he had traveled quite a bit in the years between Lily and James Potter's deaths and his tenure as a professor at Hogwarts.

"Besides," he said calmly, "an airplane seat is quite a bit more comfortable than some places I've been forced to spend time in."

Harry simply shook his head, exasperated, and continued on to baggage claim.

Over the course of their transcontinental flight, Remus had outlined a few of the mission parameters to Harry. As the animal sightings had all occurred near a small Muggle town, they would be living as Muggles for the duration of their stay, posing as uncle and nephew. A small house had been secured on the outskirts of town, and Remus had a job lined up at the local library. Harry, obviously, was too young to be considered entirely independent, but didn't really have the right education background to be able to enroll in the local high school. After some debate, the two finally decided that Harry was to be "homeschooled" by his uncle, and would get a job in town so as to establish connections with local kids his own age.

They still had a few hours drive before they would arrive at their new home, and after collecting their luggage, made their way through the crowded airport to a car rental station. Driving, apparently, was another skill Remus had picked up over the years.

*

The drive from Port Angeles to Forks wasn't terribly long, but it was still dark when Harry and Remus pulled up in front of a small-ish two storey house with a gravel driveway. Plants grew, unhindered, on either side of the walkway leading up to the front door, making the grey paneled building appear somewhat wild.

Harry decided he liked the rather messy looking exterior. The Dursleys would never have allowed their gardens so look so out of control, and the tiny backyard at Grimmauld Place would never have included plants without a more nefarious purpose. It was a nice change.

"This is it," Remus said, turning off the engine. "Home sweet home."

Harry laughed. "For the time being anyway." He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for the door handle. "Let's get all this inside and settle in, I'm knackered."

"Sounds like a plan."

They unloaded the car, lugging heavy trunks through the front door and into a comfortably furnished living room.

"Everything's already set up, for the most part," Remus explained. "The kitchen should be fully stocked if you're hungry. But I think I might just go on up to bed."

"Go ahead," Harry waved him on. "I think I'll look around a bit first."

"Alright then." Remus stretched, arms rising above his head, a strip of pale scarred skin showing where his shirt rode up. "Just don't go outside til we can both go."

"I won't, I promise. Goodnight, Moony."

"Night, Harry. I'll see you in the morning."

When he was gone, Harry propped his hands on his hips and sighed, looking around at his new home. It was small, he had realized that much before. Comfortable enough for two people, he supposed.

The living room was painted in a mossy green and had hardwood floors. There was a squishy looking sofa against one wall, a matching arm chair at a right angle to the side. Windows lined the far wall, looking out onto darkened woods, and there was a bare fireplace opposite. A hallway branched off near the door, leading, Harry assumed, to the kitchen. Stairs to the second floor were against the wall closest to the front door. All in all, he decided, not a bad place to live.

He made his way to the kitchen at the back of the house and poked through the cupboards until he found something to snack on. As he ate, he stared out the window absently. Not really paying attention, Harry almost missed the flash of white the streaked by outside. He sat up straight, startled. What was that? It was nearing eleven at night, who'd be wandering around so late? Especially all the way out here...

He went silently to the back door and reached for the knob, about to throw it open before pausing. He had promised Remus he wouldn't go outside without him, but, well, he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. He threw the look and pulled the door open, trying to be as quiet as possible. His breath began to quicken in anticipation and he jerked his wrist down slightly, the wand normally stashed in his arm holster sliding down into his grasp.

Slowly, carefully, Harry stepped out into the backyard. His gaze darted around the trees but he didn't spot anything suspicious. He shook his head quickly, exasperated.

_You're imagining things. Nothing's out there, you're just jumpy and tired_. He let out a small huff of a laugh and re-secured his wand into its holster. He scanned the woods one last time, to be sure, then went back into the house and locked the door behind him.

*

Harry and Remus settled in to Forks with little difficulty. Moving into such a small town as suddenly as they had understandably brought questions from the locals, but before long, the two had blended easily into the background.

Remus had started his job at the library, and liked it well enough. They were very flexible with his work schedule, and he had arranged to have the days surrounding the full moon off in the future for religious reasons. His employers were confused, but legally couldn't deny him.

Harry spent most of his days wandering what passed for downtown in Forks. School here started about two weeks before Hogwarts would have, so students were already in classes despite it only being toward the end of August. As he wasn't going to be taking classes at the high school, he needed something that would get him among the people of the town.

They had been in Forks for a little over a week before Harry found something suitable. Located off the main street was a small coffee shop where most of the high school students hung out when they weren't in school.

It didn't take him long to sweet talk the manager into hiring him. He was handsome enough that the girls would be falling over themselves to order from him, and friendly enough that he got on well with the boys. He liked the work well enough; he liked his coworkers, and interacting with the customers, but time was passing quickly.

A week later and they had yet to find any information about the supposed werewolves. Remus was starting to get worried. Full moon was less than a week away and he was beginning to make plans to leave for the duration.

"I can't stay here for the actual transformation," he explained one night as the two were cooking dinner together. "My scent will get everywhere and it might scare them away."

"Makes sense I suppose," Harry said, half focused on Remus and half on the vergetables he was chopping. "D'you know how long you're going to be gone?"

"I'll leave the morning before and come back the night after. You'll be alright on your own?" He flipped the chicken he had cooking, looked to Harry for confirmation.

"'Course I will. "Harry dumped the vegetables in a steamer pan. "I'm working on the day of, but I'll be back here well before moonrise. Everything set for the Wolfsbane?"

"Yes, Professor Snape is having it sent over in a few days. Trans-Atlantic portkey. Have you found anything else from the shop people?"

"Not much," Harry answered. He puffed a breath of air through pursed lips, ruffling his bangs. "It's been a while since there were any sightings, and most of those were further into the mountains."

"That's what I've found too. The women at the library are still somewhat skittish about it all, but they've mentioned the police have been sending search parties out to try to track the wolves." He flicked the stove off, transferred the chicken onto a plate, then turned and propped himself against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "If anyone can take care of it, Chief Swan can, they say." He shook his head. "Not likely."

"Hmm." Harry tapped his fingers against the countertop, thoughtful. "You know, I was looking over the maps yesterday. There's a reservation a couple of miles away. I thought I might go over and explore this weekend, see if they've heard anything."

Remus smiled, standing straight. "Good idea. I can drop you before I go into work."

"That'd be good, thanks." Harry moved the cooked vegetables off the burner and handed Remus a plate, returning the grin. "Dinner."

***

Saturday dawned rainy, which, after so long of the same, really shouldn't have come as a surprise to Harry. He was starting to miss the sun, and there wasn't even that much of it back home.

After a somewhat lazy breakfast, Remus ushered Harry out to the car to drive him out to the La Push reservation.

"You've got you're mobile?" he asked, pulling out of the drive and heading out onto the rain slicked roads.

Harry head the phone up and waggled it side to side. "Yeah."

They had purchased the phones shortly after arriving in Forks. Each were off at work most of the time, or navigating the town, and carrying mobiles made it easier to stay in contact.

"Good. I'll be off at five, but I might be able to come round on my lunch if you need to leave earlier." He signaled, pulled onto the highway leading out of town.

"I'll be fine. I'll find something to keep me busy."

They drove in silence for the rest of the trip, comfortable with their own thoughts. Before too long, Remus turned off the highway and navigated the last stretch before arriving on the main street of La Push. He pulled up in front of a small store and idled, turning to face Harry.

"Ring if you want me to come on my break, otherwise I'll collect you here around twenty after."

Harry smiled at his guardian, then reached to undo his seatbelt. "I will. Have a good day, Moony."

"You too, Harry. And good luck." He waved and Harry got out, slamming the door shut behind him.

He scanned the street. Most of this part of town looked to be shops: what looked like touristy gift shops, a smallish grocery store and a couple of restaurants. Harry sighed. Best get started then.

His morning was pretty much a bust. Yes, they'd heard about the wolf sightings; no, no one had seen any for a little over a month now; no, there weren't any other strange happenings around the town. He got the feeling that the locals probably wouldn't tell him even if they did know something. Not only wasn't he a Quileute, he wasn't even American. He was an outsider, and one didn't tell secrets to someone not in the tribe.

He decided to take a break from his snooping and stopped at a little diner off of Main Street for lunch. It was nearly half full, and as he entered he made note of the groups sitting together. At the bar along the front of the restaurant were three older men, hunched over mugs of coffee as they talked quietly to one another. Towards the back in a round booth were a couple of girls who looked up when he entered, but went back to their food when they didn't recognize him. At another booth near where the girls were sitting were three of the biggest teenagers Harry had ever seen. They didn't seem to have noticed Harry, and despite himself, he was almost glad. He hadn't run into any trouble with his questions yet, and when he saw them, seriously hoped not to offend anyone.

He grabbed a seat in an empty booth situated between the girls and the hulking teens and began flipping through the menu. Maybe, if he looked harmless enough, no one notice him eavesdropping.

A waitress came around and took his order before long. She must have seen him darting glances at the other boys, because she gave him a small smile.

"Don't mind them," she said, tucking her order pad into a pocket. "They may look tough, but I've known 'em all since they were tiny and they're all perfectly harmless."

Harry smiled back. "That obvious am I?"

She nodded. "Only to someone used to paying attention. I've been working her going on twenty years, I've gotten used to reading faces." She looked him up and down. "You're a new one, though. Just move here?"

"Yeah," he answered, fiddling with his silverware absently. "My uncle and I moved to Forks almost a month ago. I hadn't been up this way yet, thought I'd do some exploring."

"Well, welcome–" she paused, waiting.

"Harry," he said quickly.

"Welcome, Harry. I'm Ellie. Not too much to see up here, I'm afraid. Stretch of beach if you head out of town a ways, and a store or two if you're really bored."

"Oh. Well I've still got a couple of hours to waste before my uncle can come pick me up. What's the best way to get to the beach."

Ellie gave him directions, then excused herself to go put in his order. She paused briefly at the table where the other boys were sitting, speaking to them too softly for him to make out. One of the boys looked up, caught Harry's eye and grinned before turning back to Ellie. They spoke a few more minutes before she wandered back to the kitchen.

Harry returned to people watching idly while he waited for his food. He nearly jumped out of his seat when the boy who had grinned at him fell into the booth across from him. So much for constant vigilance!

"Hey there!" the boy stuck out a darkly tanned hand. Harry took it hesitantly and shook. "I'm Jacob. Ellie said you were new around here."

"Did she?" he muttered, turning to look at where the waitress was pouring coffee for the men at the counter.

Jacob laughed. "Don't look so put out. She was just trying to be nice. Hates it when people eat alone here. What's your name?"

"Harry," he said after a moment. He glanced over at the boys Jacob had left at his previous table. "Won't your friends be missing you?"

"Those guys? Nah. We were done eating and they were about to take off. I thought it'd be more fun to come over and introduce myself to the new guy."

Harry snorted, shaking his head. "Well don't I feel special."

"You should," Jacob said haughtily. "It's not everyone I decided to grace with my wonderous presence."

Harry found himself smiling and watched as Jacob made himself comfortable in the booth seat, stretching out his legs underneath and nearly knocking into Harry's in the process. Ellie came over from the direction of the kitchen and placed Harry's food down in front of him. She raised an eyebrow at Jacob, who only grinned at her before reaching over and stealing one of Harry's fries.

"Make sure you don't let him steal all the food out from under you," she told Harry. "Because he'll try." Harry nodded, and she walked away back towards the kitchen.

"Should I worry about you stealing my food?" he asked, turning back to Jacob.

"Usually? Probably yes. But you look hungry, so don't worry about it today."

Harry laughed and tucked into his food. "You remind me of someone back home."

"Ah, illustrious England," Jacob paused, looked at Harry, eyes squinting. "I'm guessing anyway. From the accent."

"You'd be right."

"What brought you to La Push?"

"Today? Exploring. I hadn't been up this way yet and thought I'd do a little poking around. Ellie was just telling me how to get to the beach." He was avoiding the question.

"Hmm,"Jacob mused. "Not much of a beach but it's pretty I guess. What made you leave England?"

Harry was silent for a moment. Was he really having this conversation with a total stranger. "My uncle," he said finally. "We had a– family member pass recently. Decided on a change of scenery for a while."

Jacob's face fell. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"It's fine," he said, forcing a tight smile. "You didn't know."

Harry was staring down at his plate, playing with his food. _Well this is awkward_, he thought._ Never a good plan to bring up dead people in casual conversation. It makes things weird. _Very soon Jacob would excuse himself and wander off, not wanting to deal with the stress of someone going through the ordeal a death brought. He wouldn't blame him, really. They didn't know each other and it's not like there was any obligation to be nice.

"Hey, I know," Jacob said, snapping his fingers. "I can take you to the beach."

Harry was confused. "What?"

"Well, I brought the whole thing up, right? Least I can do is get your mind of it all."

"I don't know," he hedged.

"Oh, come on. Finish your food and I'll take you. My car's parked down the road, and I don't have anything else to do. It'll be fun." Jacob looked like he honestly wanted to take him, too.

Harry thought it over. He didn't really know the guy and regardless of what Ellie had said, he looked like he could snap Harry in half without trying. On the other hand, he hadn't found out any useful information yet today. Maybe if he tried to make friends, he could get an in. Besides, he had his wand with him. If Jacob tried to maul him he could take care of himself. Maybe.

Mind made up, Harry nodded. "Alright."

Jacob's face lit up in the biggest smile yet. "Great. Now hurry up."

A few minutes later Harry had paid for his lunch and found himself being dragged down Main Street towards where he assumed Jacob's car was parked.

"It'll only take us about ten minutes to get there," Jacob was explaining as they reached an older looking car parked off on a side road.

Jacob babbled for most of the drive, and Harry nodded at intervals, attempting to follow along. The drive was a short one, and before he got completely lost in the flow of words, they pulled up in front of a dreary stretch of beach.

Harry got out of the car and looked around critically. The water was dark and frothy as it crashed onto the shore in small waves. The beach itself was a mixture of wet sand and pebbles, and had large chunks of driftwood dotting the landscape. He assumed they had come originally from the forest which led nearly all the way down to where the sand started.

"Never really been to the seaside before," he said, turning to take the whole scene in, "but I always thought it'd be a bit...nicer."

"Not around here," Jacob replied, wandering further out onto the sand. "You want white sand and clear blue water you have to head south a long way."

Harry followed him down towards where there was an especially large piece of wood, and the two clambered on.

"Suppose so," he said. "But it is sort of pretty, like you said."

They sat quietly for a few minutes before Harry turned back to Jacob.

"So now you know my tragic history," he said softly. "Tell me about yours."

Jacob looked startled. "Me? I'm not tragic." he stopped, scratched the back of his head. "Least, I don't think so."

"Have you lived here all your life?" Harry asked.

"Yup. As long as I can remember. I live with my dad. I've got a couple of sisters too, but one's away at school and one's married and moved away, so none of us see each other all that much."

"It must be nice, having sisters."

"I guess so," Jacob looked doubtful. "Rachel and I don't get along all that well, and Rebecca never comes home, so. What about you? Any siblings?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope. My parents died when I was a baby and I was their first." He smiled. "It's just me and Remus."

"Sounds like you two are close."

"We are, I guess," he answered honestly. "I wen to, uh, boarding school back in England, so we didn't really see each other all that much. We get on well now, though."

Jacob made a face. "Boarding school? That must have sucked. Are you going to school in town here? Or do you get sent out to one of the private schools?"

"I'm home-schooled, actually."

"That's cool. Must be kind of lonely."

Harry cocked his head to the side, thinking. He was lonely, he supposed. He missed Ron and Hermione, and some of his other friends at Hogwarts even though he had never been terribly social. "It is, a bit. I work at one of the coffee shops in town, though, so I meet people there."

"I'll have to visit you sometime," Jacob smiled. "You can score me free drinks."

Harry laughed. "I could try. But what's in it for me?"

Jacob puffed up proudly, looking down his nose at Harry. "My excellent company of course. Hey– stop laughing! Everyone'll be jealous cause you're hanging out with the coolest guy from La Push."

"Uh huh. Whatever you say." He shifted slightly on the driftwood bench, tucking a leg underneath himself and stretching the other out long before him. "Tell me about La Push," he said. "If you're so cool you should know all about it."

"Hmm," Jacob began, tilting his head back to look up at the cloudy sky. "There's not much to tell, really. It's a decent sized reservation; all Quileute. We're all pretty close-knit, but it's like living in a regular town, I guess. Why? Did you expect Medicine Men and peace pipes?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't know what to expect. I don't think there are quite as many stereotypes about the American Indian thing back home. Then again, I don't really think all that much is known about it, at least where I'm from. You must have an interesting history."

Harry wasn't quite sure what he was digging for anymore. Local legends, folk tales– if there were stories to be found they'd most likely be here, and Jacob was his best lead.

"Yeah, there's a lot of that. I grew up on it, so it's lost a lot of the glory, but there's a bunch I still like."

"Like what?" _Give me something to go on!_

"Oh, you know," Jacob flipped a hand in the air, waving the question off. He seemed to draw in on himself slightly, began looking a little guarded, and Harry wondered why. "Creation stuff mostly. Where we came from, how we got here." he paused. "Who we used to be."

Harry waited for him to continue, but after a few minutes of nothing but fidgeting, gave up. He glanced down at his watch to gauge the time and swore softly. It was almost five! They'd been talking longer than he'd thought, and Remus would be picking him up in town soon.

He scrambled to his feet and dusted off the back of his jeans. Jacob looked up at him curiously.

"My uncle's going to be in town soon," he explained. "I've got to get back."

"Oh!" Jacob got up, fumbled through his pockets for his keys. "Sorry. Guess I should get you back then."

"Thanks."

They talked more on the way back of inconsequential things. Jacob regaled Harry with stories of his insane friends, and he found himself laughing more that he had in months. This trip was turning out well for him. Even if he didn't find the mysterious werewolf pack, maybe he'd made a friend. Merlin knew he needed them.

When they pulled back in front of the diner, Harry didn't spot Remus' car. Made it then. He jotted down the name of the shop he was working at, handed it over to Jacob, and the two climbed out of the car. They wandered slowly down to the shop where Remus was meeting Harry, and had just made it to the front when Harry saw Jacob stiffen.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He looked around the area, trying to spot anything that could have caused such a reaction, but saw nothing.

"It's–it's nothing," Jacob answered. His eyes were darting around the street and he looked tense to run.

Harry looked doubtful. "It doesn't look like nothing."

Jacob dragged his gaze down to Harry's and seemed to force himself to relax. "Something felt off, that's all"

"Uh huh," he tried not to sound sarcastic, but it didn't work.

"I should probably get going." Jacob turned to glance behind him, then back to Harry, distracted. He started walking backwards. "I'll come by the coffee house soon, though. Say hi."

"Okay. See you, I guess."

Jacob nodded and turned around, jogging back to his car.

"Well, that was strange." Harry heard a car coming up the road from the opposite direction and turned. Remus. Right on time.


End file.
